In the Key of Love
by thebooktrooper
Summary: Betty walks into Pop's hoping to bump into a special someone...but what happens when she finds Jughead's secret musical talents?


After this week's episode, I feel like we all need a little extra Bughead. Jughead is somewhat out of character in this, but I still I hope you enjoy it, and I would appreciate if you let me know how you liked it. If any of you know of good Bughead fanfic's pleaseeee, let me know. Also, if you have an idea that you want me to write, feel free to PM me or comment it and I'll see what I can do!

It was a typical day in Riverdale, or at least as normal as a day could get with a murderer on the loose. Jughead Jones was sitting alone in a booth at Pop's. A half-eaten basket of fries sat in front of him, begging to be eaten. His appetite had disappeared, a feat Jughead had thought impossible. He stared down at the red and white checkered tablecloth and sighed. Thoughts rushed through his head at a million miles per hour, and though he tried, he couldn't seem to grab on to one.

Whenever his mind was like this, Jughead always turned to the piano. It had been his way of expressing his emotions ever since he was a kid. Through the yelling and door slamming, Jughead would find peace in the comfort of the piano. It was always there, always the same. Same notes, same keys, same songs. Familiarity. Structure. Stability. All the things Jughead's life lacked, he found in the piano. Comfort.

When Jughead's mom had moved away, she had taken the piano with her. The simple keyboard had supposedly taken up too much space in the trailer, which was far from true. He let it go without protest, hoping Jellybean would find comfort in it just as he did. His mom knew how to play and would teach Jellybean, just as she had taught Jughead. Maybe, if his dad got his shit together, he would see them again. Play the piano again. Watch Jellybean play it.

For now, he had to do with the small wall piano at Pop's. It was out of tune and often dusty, but it wasn't bad enough to keep Jughead from playing it. Pop had given him permission years and years ago when Jughead had come in after a particularly rough night. His dad had gotten drunk and tossed him around the trailer a bit. He had yelled things that Jughead didn't care to remember anymore. All he remembered was walking into Pop's desperate, alone, and helpless.

He had noticed the piano since the first time he had visited Pop's. His eyes naturally gravitated towards the instrument, and his fingers twitched in anticipation of playing it. It wasn't until that night that he had gained the courage to play. There was a sign on the piano allowing anyone to play it if they wanted to, but Jughead was too afraid. Playing the piano was a way of expressing his soul, and playing in front of anyone but his messed-up family terrified him. But that night he was desperate. He had no one to comfort him, nothing that could have made the situation any better. All he had were his fingers and his limited repertoire of songs.

Jughead pushed his basket of fries forward and slid out of his booth. He walked towards the piano, continually checking his back to make sure no one was inside. He knew Pop was there, but he had come to trust the old man. They had come to a mutual understanding of silence, something that Jughead deeply appreciated.

Jughead slid onto the creaky wooden bench that stood in front of the piano. Taking a deep breath, he wrung his hands out and cracked his knuckles. Though he only knew five or so songs, he would play them for hours if he could. Subconsciously deciding on his first song, Jughead delicately placed his fingers on the white keys. He straightened his back and made sure his feet firmly set on the ground. Lifting his wrists, a bit, he made a leap of faith and pressed on the first key.

The key rang out, echoing throughout the restaurant. The first few notes were the worst, the most awkward. Jughead hadn't had the chance to immerse himself in playing, and the melody sounded awkward in the silence. As he played further, Jughead felt his shoulders relax more and more. His back muscles relaxed, and he could finally breathe. His mind began to clear, and he could finally think.

The familiarity of the piano put him at ease. The notes came naturally to him, after all, he had played the same five songs countless times for the past eight years. The cold ebony beneath his finger pads bent to his will. The keys were the only thing he could control. Jughead couldn't control his father, his mother, or his situation. But he could control these songs. That control granted him the small piece of sanity that kept him going. The sliver of hope that kept him going throughout the day.

So involved in playing, Jughead didn't hear the bell ring as a second customer walked into Pop's. She shook her head at Pop's questioning gaze, letting him know that she hadn't come for food. Rather, a person in a scruffy beanie. A particular person who, she was shocked to find out, was playing the piano and filling the ordinarily quiet air with a sweet melody. She quietly walked over to the corner that he was playing in, tiptoeing as if making too much noise would disturb the perfect music that was flowing through the air.

She successfully made it to the piano without disrupting Jughead. His fingers continued to scale the piano, skipping over octaves and diving into others as his eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration. The normal stress and tension which he held in his shoulders and back was gone and was replaced with a sense of calm and relaxation. His foot tapped with the beat of the song, and his shoulders swayed with the rhythm. The rolled-up sleeves of his flannel revealed his tight, defined forearms. Closing her eyes, Betty tried to break herself out of her trance. She wasn't here to swoon over Jughead.

The song began to slow down, so Betty walked closer to Jughead. As he reached the end, holding the last note as long as possible, she slid onto the bench next to him. The smooth melody came to an abrupt halt as Jughead was snapped out of his trance back to reality. Jughead jumped up, surprise and panic overwhelming him.

"Betty! What are you doing here? What are you-" His voice was tight as he tried to suppress his panic and fear. Guilt stabbed him as a look of hurt flashed across Betty's eyes. Jughead cast a glance at the piano and looked back up at Betty. "How much did you hear?" The tension was back in his shoulders. He wiped his hands on his jeans, suddenly nervous. No one knew about this. No one was supposed to know about this. This was his secret with his family and Pop. If people knew…His breath began to quicken. He pushed his shaking hands into his pockets, hoping Betty didn't notice.

"All of it," Betty said softly. "Are you alright? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Noticing his shaking, Betty sighed. "Jughead, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have come. I didn't mean to do this. Look at you; you're deathly pale. Here, I can leave, will that help? We can forget this ever happened."

"No, don't." His voice was shaky but determined. "Don't leave because of this. I can-I will be fine."

Betty wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her hand along his shaking arm in an attempt to calm him. Minutes later, Jughead sat back up, looking better.

"Th-thank you." Jughead brought his eyes to meet Betty's wide ones. "What are you doing here anyway? It's- "

"One A.M. I know. My mom and I got into another fight, and I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to wake anyone up, so I walked here to clear my head. I had some irrational hope that you would be here, but I never would have guessed that, that"

"I played the piano?" Betty nodded. Jughead chuckled sardonically. "No one does. No one is supposed to, that's the point. I come here to play sometimes; we don't have a piano at the trailer of course." Feeling a bit more comfortable, Jughead sat back down on the piano bench. His heart was still beating fast, but he ignored it. This was Betty. Of all people, he would want her to know. She deserved to know. She had told him so much about herself, yet he had remained a locked box, full of secrets. She at least deserved to know this one.

"I'm sorry that I barged in like that. I- "

"Don't apologize, Betty. You didn't know, so I can't blame you. Just please, don't tell anyone." Betty looked at him with shocked eyes.

"No, no of course not Jughead. This is your secret. You can trust me." A half-smile crept onto Jughead's face. His eyes warmed as he looked at his girlfriend, still in her pajamas with no makeup on her face. He thought she still looked beautiful, though she didn't. Her hair was out of its regular ponytail, laying on her shoulders in loose waves that reflected the neon lights at Pop's.

"Thank you." The words were sincere, sending more than a simple thanks. Sending an 'I'm sorry for overreacting, ' and an 'I love you' as well.

"Will you, -Never mind. I shouldn't ask that."

"What?" Jughead's curiosity peaked, and he turned and sat criss-cross in front of Betty. His hand began to play with her loose hair as her eyes flashed back and forth between his.

"Could you maybe play one more song for me?" Betty asked softly, her eyes cast downward. Jughead paused. His mouth ran dry. Playing in front of Pop was one thing. He had known him for years, and he didn't care. Betty was different. Betty was…amazing. He would mess up; he knew that he would. He would mess up and make a fool of himself and make her hate him. Then he would be back to square one.

"Betty, I- "

"Oh, oh it's alright. I get it; I totally get it. You don't have too. I didn't mean to ask. You're fine, don't worry about it. I don't care." Though her words said that he didn't have to, Betty's eyes told Jughead differently. They were filled with admiration and longing. Longing for what, he wasn't sure. He took a deep breath.

"Betty, I'll do it." Her eyes snapped to his, asking if he was ok with it. Though he gave her a small nod and fell into the familiar position in front of the piano, he wasn't sure if he was. "I might not be that good at it but, I'll try."

"Don't worry, Jug. Just play. I'm not going to leave you if you mess up. You're incredible, and this only adds to the list that explains why." Jughead blushed as she called him incredible. He still couldn't get over the fact that she could find the good in him when he couldn't even do it. She somehow found him incredible when he struggled to define himself as decent.

"Alright…I guess I'll just, um, start playing." She nodded and wrapped an arm around his waist. He sank into her warm touch, yearning for her comfort. Quickly deciding on a song, he placed his fingers on the keys and began to play Canon in D.

The song started out slowly, slow enough for him to calm down his rapid breathing and pounding heart. The sweating persisted, but there was nothing he could do for that. As the song increased in speed and difficulty, his eyebrows furrowed, and he narrowed his eyes as he began to lose focus on the gorgeous girl next to him and gained focus on the keys in front of him. The song flowed out of his fingertips, mending Jughead's fear and worry.

Betty watched in awe next to him, amazed at how his fingers danced across the key forming such a beautiful melody. She admired the two hands moving in perfect sync yet at completely different paces and patterns. The song lasted for two minutes, which Betty spent admiring her Boyfriend's hidden talent and forearms.

The song soon came to an end, and Jughead made the last note last as long as he could before he turned to Betty hesitantly. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, tears forming in her eyes.

"Beautiful Jug, amazing. I loved it. Thank you. Thank you for trusting me. For loving me."

Jughead pulled back and took a moment to look at her. Her eyes held unshed tears that she was holding back, her eyes flickering around his face in anxiety. He wrapped his arms around her again, holding her tight.

"Thank you. I, I am glad that you know now. I'm sorry that I overreacted."

"No, you didn't Jug. I interrupted a secret that you wanted to hide from everyone. If anyone should be apologizing, it's me.

"You were fine Betts; I already told you it was fine. You didn't know. I acted rashly; it wasn't right. I-I was scared. Really scared."

"Scared?" Jughead nodded, grabbing Betty's hands in his own and squeezing them tightly. He looked off at the wall behind her, unable to look her straight in the eye.

"I was scared of what you would think, of you judging me. Piano was, is, my comfort. The one thing that I can control and make and do well without my father having any say in it. It's my safe zone. And I was scared that someone had invaded it. Taken it away."

"Jug- "

"But you, you just added to it. You made it better. I was scared, but you still stayed. You are somehow forgiving me for lashing out at you when I obviously don't deserve it."

"Of course, you do Jug."

"But I keep doing it to you! I keep pushing you away when all I want to do is wrap you in my arms and never let go. I don't know how to do this, Betty. I don't know how to do us! And you deserve someone who does."

"I deserve you, Jughead. You are the only one I want. I don't know what I'm doing either. We can learn together, ok?"

Jughead looked up and into her eyes. They were filled with such promise, safety, love. Everything he yearned for. He glanced down again, before looking back at her more determined.

"Ok."

Just like that, they leaned in simultaneously and met in the middle in a collision of fireworks. Their lips melded together, passion burning through them both. Betty ran her hands through Jug's hair, sliding off the beanie in the process. He gripped her back, pressing her closer against him. He came to realize that she needed him as much as he needed her. That was the beauty of it. They deserved each other. And though the world was a wreck, and their lives were no exception, they found peace and comfort in each other.

"I love you, Jughead Jones," Betty's voice was light and breathless as she broke away from the kiss. Jughead smiled, feeling complete for the first time in years.

"And I love you, Betty Cooper."


End file.
